Meta

Extreme

I’ve been enjoying recounting some of my old sex stories recently even if it’s been mildly embarrassing to realise what dubious taste in men younger me had. But I thought this week I’d treat you all to a tale of a decent guy for once.

I have never understood that line about men being more visual than women because trust me all the women I know have a finely honed sense of spotting someone they find hot at a hundred paces. It explains why we all bought so many women’s magazines in our teens to eye up the hot men (and maybe the women too.)

That’s where I spotted him first. A shared copy of a magazine with some friends on an article about the growing interest in extreme sports in the UK. In amongst the fellas with their trousers barely clinging to their arse, he looked more normal as well as the kind of good looking that turns your head.

I could see why the interview featured him so prominently as he had model looks combined with that air of pure filth. He was hands down the best looking man I’d ever seen. I bought a copy of the magazine on the way home from my friend’s house and developed an interest in extreme sports all of a sudden.

This turned out to be an excellent choice on my part. Not only is there quite a skill to admire in chucking yourself round on a BMX bike or skateboard, but it also does incredible things to a man’s arse. Which is how I found myself several years later sitting on a kerb watching men throw themselves at a ridiculously high ramp for fun when who should appear out of nowhere?

I thought I was hallucinating (or had died and gone to heaven) when he walked directly towards me and handed me two tickets for the after show party later before winking and walked off again. I nearly lost my balance on that kerb and definitely lost my cool when everyone stared at me and started trying to invite themselves along with me later. Men that good looking do not come along often.

Which made it ironic that I couldn’t bloody find him later at the party. I had to spend a lot of valuable time chatting to other men about ollies and half pipes and bike brakes like I actually gave a fuck and wasn’t just there to find the ridiculously good looking man who’d been on my mind for two years.

By the time the lights went up at the end of the night he was still missing in action and I was convinced I’d imagined meeting him earlier like some kind of handsome apparition. And then just as I went outside to hail a cab he appeared out of nowhere. I immediately forgot the cab and accepted his offer of a drink back at his hotel as I left to all eyes on me with the good looking stranger from out of town.

We bypassed the bar back at the hotel and went straight to his room instead, piling through the door like a movie cliche kissing each other frantically, pulling at clothes to get naked and falling onto the bed to fuck as quickly as possible. He had a body to match his beautiful face and the hotel had the kind of panoramic view over the city below that goes to your head.

I was on top of him in no time staring down at him and riding his cock lit only by the lights outside as he fucked me stupid that way so few men can do when you’re astride them. All too often men lie flat with their hips pressed to the bed making you do all the work in an awkward way that always made being on top the only way penetration didn’t make me come.

But this guy fucked me like nothing else I’d encountered. That well muscled arse and legs from all those extreme sports led to some very extreme fucking where he seemed to lift me off the bed with his cock so that I had to tip my body forward to stay on and pressed my clit and cunt against him making me come repeatedly in a way that I didn’t know was possible on top until then.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d come before he practically fucked me flat onto my back with the intensity of his own orgasm. We collapsed onto the bed in that breathless giddy well fucked way that feels like floating on air. I was about thank him for the amazing sex when we both jumped about ten feet in the air as someone’s voice said ‘oh you’re finished. I thought that would never end’.

It turned out that in our haste to fuck, neither of us had noticed that his room-mate was there sleeping in the room’s other bed until our enthusiastic fucking had woken him up and given him a full floor show. I was too orgasmed out to care that he had witnessed the whole thing and appreciated that at this point he took himself off to meet other people in the bar so we could carry on.

And carry on we did. Not only did we fuck again that night, we continued to fuck on and off for the next five years despite never living in the same city once and not exchanging contact details for the first two years. We just had a knack of bumping into each other around the UK and Ireland and falling into bed together every time, even once hiring a room by the hour to fuck before his train left London.

We eventially ended up dating properly for a year although we were much less successful at that than being fuck buddies. He remained the only man ever to make me come from being on top until I met my Master and I admit I was almost tempted to meet up for old times’ sake when he friended me on Facebook last year.

But I wasn’t surprised when he mentioned his friend had asked after me after all that time….